


It's You I Like

by yaaurens



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 19:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20587550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaaurens/pseuds/yaaurens
Summary: After being introduced to Sesame Street, Steve continues his education in children's TV shows and ends up learning a bit more about Tony and his life.





	It's You I Like

**Author's Note:**

> Although this work briefly references "I Love Trash" it stands fairly well on its own; you don't need to have read "I Love Trash" to understand this one, but it may help.
> 
> Rating is solely for Tony's language. 
> 
> With thanks to @wynnesome and @avelera for beta-reading.

_“Would you be mine? Could you be mine? Won’t you be my neighbour?”_

“Cap?”

Glancing up and back from his place on the couch, Steve hit the pause button on the TV remote. “Hey, Tony. What’s up?”

“Are you.” Tony cocked his head and squinted at Steve. “Are you watching _Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood_?”

Steve grinned. “Yeah. After our talk the other day about Oscar the Grouch and _Sesame Street_, I thought I’d do a bit more digging into the kinds of things kids watch.”

Huffing a laugh, Tony perched on the arm of the couch. “Sorry to break it to you Cap, but Mr. Rogers isn't exactly the sort of thing kids generally watch nowadays. Now it’s mostly SpongeBob and shit.”

Steve mock-glared at Tony. “Really? I don’t think Mr. Rogers would have approved of that kind of language.”

“Hmm. Maybe not. He would have loved you, though,” Tony answered with a grin.

Curious, Steve turned to fully face the other Avenger. “I haven’t watched much of the show yet, but he seems to have been very kind and very wise. Was he - do you know if he was really like that? Or was it just for the show?”

“No, he was a perfect gentleman when I met him. I mean, it was only the once and I was pretty spectacularly drunk at the time, so I don’t really have a whole lot of personal experience with the man.” Tony shrugged, his smile fading.

“Wait, you actually met Mr. Rogers?” Steve propped his elbow on the back of the couch and leaned towards Tony eagerly. “What was he like?”

Tony scratched at the back of his neck before sliding down off the arm to join Steve on the couch properly. “It was a long time ago, Cap. It’s got to have been, god, twenty, twenty-five years ago?” He stared at the frozen image of Fred Rogers, still on the TV screen. “It was some fundraiser, and as was usual back then, I was drunk and ended up being a complete asshole to Mr. Rogers. It’s a wonder that he still managed to be nice to me considering my behaviour. But that’s the kind of guy he was. Always kind, even to people who didn’t deserve it.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe the people who we think don’t deserve kindness are the ones who most need it.”

“See, that’s why he would have liked you. You see the best in people, just like he did.”

The men sat in silence for a few moments before Tony reached out for the remote and resumed playing the show. On the screen, Trolley took them into the Neighborhood of Make-Believe, where Prince Tuesday decided he would rather be a machine with no feelings.

With a chuckle, Steve said, “Imagine what Prince Tuesday would think if he knew about your bots and JARVIS. They definitely have feelings.” He glanced over at Tony, expecting an agreeing smile, but instead Tony just looked sad. “Tony? You okay?”

Tony shrugged. “Just thinking. Maybe if I’d had the chance to watch his show when I was a kid I would have turned out better.”

“What? Tony, you - you turned out just fine!”

“Not really. I mean. I guess I’m okay now, but I wasted so much of my life, Steve. If I’d only - do you want to know what we talked about, that time I met him?” Without waiting for a reply, Tony barrelled on. “I was supposed to be helping fundraise for his show, but I couldn’t stop being an asshole long enough to do my goddamn job, and he - do you know, when I was, before,” he waved a hand vaguely, “no one ever called me out on my dickishness. Oh, the tabloids would always act all scandalized at whatever my latest indiscretion was, but no one ever took me aside and told me to stop acting like a spoiled brat. Not even -” Tony’s voice stuttered slightly. “Not even Obie.”

Steve filed that vocal stumble away for later consideration, but focused his attention on the topic at hand. “Not even Pepper?”

“Pep? Nah, back then, I was her boss. She may have tried to be a good influence, but if she ever really tried to push me, I might have fired her.” He laughed. “Now, obviously, that’s not the case. But no, back then, other than Rhodey, who wasn’t around very much, everyone was too afraid. Afraid of my money, of my brain, whatever. They wanted to stay on my good side and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

“So that hasn’t changed much, then,” Steve muttered.

Tony cracked a smile. “Ha. True, but nowadays they’re not sucking up to a drunk, drug-addled man-child who could ruin their companies and futures on a whim, just because he felt jilted or annoyed.”

“No, thankfully. Now they’re sucking up to a generous guy who creates scientific miracles and thousands of jobs because he wants to make the world a better place.”

Tony stared at Steve for a moment, tight uncertainty in his face, before chuckling nervously. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Cap.”

“It wasn’t flattery, but go on. Tell me about Mr. Rogers.” Steve nudged Tony’s foot with his own. “Sounds like he made quite an impression on you.”

“I didn’t think he had at the time, but I still remember it, so.” Tony returned his gaze to the show. “I’m not sure which of my ridiculous antics finally got his attention, but he asked to speak to me privately. And since it was Mr. Rogers and he most likely wasn’t planning to assassinate me, I agreed.”

*

The noise from the fundraiser was muffled in the small library Tony found for his chat with Fred Rogers.

“Want a drink?" Tony asked, offering a glass of the host’s finest Scotch. “It’s not the greatest, but it’s tolerable.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Stark,” Mr. Rogers began.

“Ah, ah, ah, nope, Mr. Stark is my father,” Tony interrupted.

“Yes, of course. Your father.” Mr. Rogers turned a shrewd gaze on Tony, making Tony feel oddly uncomfortable. He hid it by turning back to replace the bottle of Scotch on the bar.

“I met your father once. It was at an event much like this, but many, many years ago.” Even though Mr. Rogers spoke in soft, measured tones, his voice captured Tony’s unwilling attention. Hesitantly, Tony turned to face him.

“He didn’t seem too happy to be there, though.” Mr. Rogers cocked his head slightly, a gentle smile on his face as he focused solely on Tony. “At one point, he pulled me aside to tell me that my show was a useless waste of time.”

Tony huffed. “Well, I guess he thought your show and I had something in common.” His eyes widened in surprise at his statement. Despite his tumultuous relationship with his father, Tony always made sure to keep that strife hidden in public. “I - I mean - I didn’t mean - I mean, he told me the same thing. About your show, not, not.” Tony stumbled to a halt, arrested by the kind expression on Mr. Rogers’ face.

“Tony - may I call you Tony?” At Tony’s shaky nod, Mr. Rogers continued. “Tony, I wonder, has anyone ever told you how proud they are of you?”

Tony’s brain blanked. “Uhm. What?”

Still smiling gently at Tony, Mr. Rogers said, “I’m proud of you, Tony. I’m proud of you, and I like you.”

Dumbly, Tony repeated, “What?”

“I like you, Tony, just the way you are. It’s not the fancy suits you wear, or the stylish way you do your hair. It’s you I like. The way you are right now, the way down deep inside you. Not the things that hide you, not your toys and your technology - they’re just beside you.”

Tony flinched back. “Wait. I don’t.” He stuttered to a stop again, uncertain and off balance. His alcohol-addled brain felt unusually slow and mushy. What was this guy’s game? What did he want from Tony? Plenty of people sucked up to him to gain favors, but no one had ever seemed so sincere. No one but Jarvis and occasionally his mother had ever told him they were proud of him. Certainly no one had ever just flat out said they liked him, and him alone, not all the external trappings. Taking a step back, Tony cleared his throat and said, “What is it you want, Mr. Rogers? A check? This is a fundraiser; you’ll get that anyway. There’s no need to butter me up.”

Mr. Rogers studied Tony for a long moment, long enough to make Tony want to squirm, but he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide their trembling and stood his ground, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But before anything else could be said, the door to the library banged open and a handful of drunk party-goers stumbled into the room.

One woman’s eyes lit up when she spotted Tony, and she made a beeline to him. “Tooooooony,” she drawled, immediately getting handsy and leaning up against him, before trying to pull him back out to the main ballroom. “Come dance with me.” She shimmied her hips against him. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Still disconcerted and uneasy from Mr. Rogers’ praise, Tony allowed her to tug him toward the door, but he still looked back when Mr. Rogers spoke up one final time.

“Tony. Remember, you can put on a hat, or put on a coat, or wear a pair of glasses or sail in a boat. You can change your name or find a place to hide; you can do almost anything, but you’re still yourself inside. Make sure who you are inside is who you want to be.”

Mr. Rogers’ words barely reached Tony’s ears before the door closed between them and the socialite pulled Tony onto the dance floor. With each step, Tony let the music and alcohol wash over him until he’d buried the conversation and forgotten his confusion.

*

Tony’s voice trailed off as he finished recounting his meeting with Fred Rogers. Steve’s gaze remained fixed on his friend’s face, while in the background a new episode played into the now otherwise silent room. On the screen, Mr. Rogers took an electric car for a test drive.

“I never really deliberately thought about that meeting again afterward. Yeah, I met Mr. Rogers, but it didn’t mean anything. I didn’t want it to mean anything. I couldn’t let it mean anything, because -” Tony cut himself off abruptly.

Steve hesitated a moment before prompting, “Because?”

Tony’s leg twitched and his body tensed, as if he were about to flee. But Steve let his hand fall to rest on Tony’s shoulder from where it had been propping up his head during Tony’s story. “Hey,” Steve said. “It’s okay. Not judging, just listening.”

With a huff, Tony said, “Really? That’s new. You’re always Judgey McJudgeypants.”

Steve burst out laughing. “What? I’m not - I’m not Judgey Mc- you know what, no, that’s just so ridiculous I’m not even gonna say it.”

“Oh, see, there you go, judging my nicknames for you, Mr. McJudgeypants.” With a laugh of his own, Tony dodged the throw pillow Steve aimed at him.

“All silliness aside though, Tony,” Steve said as they both settled back onto the couch, “I told you before, I’m happy to talk whenever you’re ready, and I’ll always be here to listen. Just say the word. I like listening to you.” His hand returned to Tony’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

Tony let his gaze flicker back and forth across Steve’s face, as though he could read Steve’s intentions in the laughter lines and freckles sprinkled across his skin. After years of having Howard hold up Steve as a paragon of perfection, Tony thought it kind of nice to see those minor flaws, particularly the slowly deepening eye crinkles, proof of Steve relaxing and laughing more often.

Right now, Steve seemed serious but calm, curious about what Tony was going to say, but not likely to press him on it. Tony felt a little bit of tension leave his shoulders. Back in the day, Steve had been used as a performing monkey who had to present himself a certain way; surely of all people, he could understand what Tony was thinking and feeling.

Tony let himself lean ever so slightly into Steve’s grounding touch. “I didn’t want to believe Mr. Rogers. When I was a kid, it was pretty obvious that most people didn’t care about me as a person. Even back then they liked what I could do, what I represented, what I meant for the future. They didn’t want to know the kid, they just wanted the kid to perform in a way that they liked.” Tony swallowed hard before continuing. “After mom and Jarvis died, I knew that no one really liked me, not for me. Everyone always seemed to prefer when I played a role, even if that role was me being a total dumbass. So - that’s what I gave people. They liked the act, so that’s what they got. No one ever acknowledged that there was anything else underneath.”

The relaxed expression on Steve’s face had disappeared into something that looked like concern, but Tony ignored it and plowed on.

“I didn’t want to believe Mr. Rogers, someone who had never met me, who had only ever experienced the me that was awful - how could someone as flat-out good as Mr. Rogers just immediately like me? If this complete stranger, who had no reason to think there was anything else behind the mask - if he could look past all that and see me and like me, then why couldn’t-.” Tony stopped, unable to force the words out.

Steve could fill in the gaps though. “Why couldn’t your dad?” he asked softly. “Or anyone else you met?”

Tony stared silently at his knees, breath trapped behind a tight throat. He forced himself to take a slow, deep breath, trying not to draw Steve’s attention to his unease, but knowing he was probably failing. Tony could feel Steve studying him, his hand a seemingly forgotten yet still steady presence on Tony’s shoulder. Only once Tony felt he could breathe evenly again did he raise his gaze to meet Steve’s.

“Normally, I’d say run the numbers; it’s far more likely that everyone else was correct and Mr. Rogers was mistaken in his assessment. Or, more in alignment with the purpose of the evening, he simply said what he thought would get him the biggest Stark donation possible.” Tony shrugged, aiming for but missing nonchalant by a mile. “It’s easiest to just chalk it up as a mistake and move on.”

Steve cocked his head, glancing back at the TV, where Mr. Rogers was now speaking with a boy in a wheelchair. “Except it’s Mr. Rogers who said it.” Steve looked back at Tony. “And he seems like a pretty sincere kind of guy.”

“Yeah. Which almost makes it even less believable.”

Mr. Rogers’ voice interrupted their conversation, as he broke into song on screen. “It’s you I like. It’s not the things you wear…”

Tony flinched. “See? He says it to everyone. Just a platitude. Nothing special.”

Steve’s focus remained on the singing man and the boy who joined in. “No, but listen.” His grip on Tony’s shoulder tightened. “Tony. He’s personalizing it. Listen.” He grabbed the remote and rewound the episode a few seconds.

“…not the things that hide you, not your fancy chair, that’s just beside you…”

Tony sat up abruptly, too focused on the words to feel more than a momentary twinge of regret as Steve’s hand fell away from his shoulder. “That. That’s not what he said to me.”

“JARVIS, can you display the standard lyrics for this song?”

Tony’s eyes darted over the ghostly blue hologram lyrics JARVIS projected. “That’s. He changed them. He made them for me. He specifically tailored them to me.” Tony stopped, eyes burning and throat tight again.

Hesitantly, Steve shifted closer to Tony on the couch, letting his knee knock against Tony’s. “I think it’s safe to say Mr. Rogers meant it. He wasn’t mistaken.”

Tony sat back again, his normally lightning-fast brain feeling as though it were mired in molasses. Nothing was making sense. Nothing was processing. Nothing - His thoughts kept trying to rev up, only to be dragged back down into the slowness soup of his confusion. “I don’t. Steve, I don’t. I don’t understand.” Tony cleared his throat, frustrated and embarrassed by how small and uncertain his voice sounded.

Steve turned to fully face Tony, reaching out to enfold Tony’s shaking hands in his own large, steady ones. His knee pressed warm against Tony’s thigh, offering another grounding point.

Tony’s eyes went wide, staring down at their entwined hands. “Steve?”

Steve took a deep breath. “Tony. You’ve never - your whole life you’ve - ” He stopped, joined Tony in looking down at their hands, and started again. “When I was a kid, I was nobody. There was nothing I had that anybody else wanted, so whenever I made a friend, I knew it was because they liked me for who I was, not for anything I could do for them. But you, Tony, you weren’t lucky enough to get to be nobody. From what you’ve said, your parents surrounded you with people who only wanted something from you, not people who wanted to know you for yourself. And that’s - that’s a cruel thing for parents to do.”

Despite his best efforts, Tony tensed up.

“No, Tony, no, it’s not your fault. As a kid, you don’t get to make those decisions for yourself; you go where your parents put you, and that’s it. But being raised that way, being taught from such a young age that that’s all you can expect from people? That’s the kind of lesson that sticks with you, even if it isn’t true.” Steve squeezed Tony’s hand gently. “Yes, there are horrible people out there who would get to know you just to use you in some way. But there are also plenty of people who, if given the chance, would like to get to know you. Just you, as a person.”

Tony hummed and arched an eyebrow skeptically. If Steve really thought people wanted to get to know Tony, he clearly was just as much of an optimist as Mr. Fred Rogers had been.

“Truly, Tony. I mean, look, you have Rhodey and Pepper. They both love you, and not for the things you give them.”

“They both have cushy jobs because of me.”

“You know perfectly well that they’re both capable of getting those cushy jobs without knowing you. They choose to stick with you because they care about you and like you. You, personally, not the you the world sees. They’ve known you long enough that if they truly didn’t like you, they would have moved on by now.”

“Mm. Maybe.” Tony didn’t want to examine that possibility too closely. He already knew that if either Pepper or Rhodey, or even Happy, gave up on him, it would break him. Just thinking about it in passing caused his anxiety to spike. “Still, that’s two people in my life currently. Seems more the exception than the rule.”

Steve stared at Tony, silent for a long moment. “It’s not just Pepper and Rhodey,” he finally said. “You have the team.”

Tony scoffed. “The team? The team that didn’t want me until there was no other option? The team that said ‘Iron Man yes, Tony Stark not recommended?’ Yeah, I don’t think ‘the team’ falls into that category, Cap.” Quickly, he pulled his hands from Rogers’ grasp, ready to retreat to his workshop where he could pretend none of this had happened. Fred Rogers and his song and inexplicable niceness could go back to being a distant memory, rarely if ever recalled.

“You have me.”

If Tony had been drinking something at that moment, he would have performed the most spectacular spit-take known to mankind. As it was, he gaped at Steve like a fish out of water, speechless.

Steve winced and pulled back. “I didn’t think it would be that much of a shock to you, the thought that I might like you and want to get to know you better.”

For the far-too-manyth time in one conversation, Tony’s brain rebooted, leaving him blank and uncertain how to react. “C’mon brain, get it together,” he muttered under his breath, dropping his face into his hand, trying to block out at least some external inputs.

Of course, it didn’t help, because Steve heard him (curse you, super hearing) and reacted with - concern? Was this concern? If Cap, if Steve actually was sincere about liking Tony, if this wasn’t just Captain America trying to get to know his teammate, then, then -

Nope. Tony’s brain reboot continued.

“Tony?” Steve’s hand tentatively landed on Tony’s shoulder again. “I didn’t - I didn’t mean to upset you. Should I - I should go. I don’t want to make this worse for you, but I do want to get to know you. But if you, if you don’t want that, it’s okay. We can just be teammates if you don’t want to be - to be anything more.”

Tony felt the couch shift as Steve stood, giving Tony’s shoulder one last squeeze. Even though a large part of Tony just wanted to run and hide, he blindly reached out and caught hold of Steve’s wrist before Steve could retreat.

“Sit. Stay.”

Huffing, Steve returned to his seat on the couch, carefully leaving a cushion of space between them. “Despite how many times you compare me to a golden retriever, I am not actually a dog, you know.”

“And yet you sat and stayed so nicely there.” Tony finally raised his face from his hand, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. “Sorry, Cap, I just. I need a minute to process, and if you take off now, I’m 99% sure I would never try to find you and explain later, so… park it for a minute and let me think. There’s a lot going on here right now, with, with. With everything.” He flapped a hand at the TV where a smiling Mr. Rogers was now frozen on the screen, thanks to JARVIS’ intervention.

They sat together in tense silence for a long moment before Tony managed to order his thoughts somewhat. Clearing his throat, he began, “Cap.”

At Steve’s wince, Tony amended his speech slightly. “Steve. Look. You’ve gotta understand. No one has ever been quite so - ” He hesitated, struggling to find the right way to say this. Aggressive? Blatant? Discarding those possibilities, Tony growled softly in annoyance at his inability to word properly. Fine then, just lay it all out there and forget about prettying it up.

“No one has ever flat out told me they like me and want to be my friend, not without an ulterior motive. After hearing that one Mr. Rogers likes - liked - me, it’s a little bit hard to believe that another Mr. Rogers could like me too.” Tony hesitated before finishing in a rush. “It seems a bit greedy, besides being unlikely.”

Tony glanced up and froze at the expression on Steve’s face. He thought he’d seen all of Steve’s various puppy dog faces before, but this was definitely not anything Tony was used to seeing. His eyes seemed suspiciously bright, and - oh, wait, were those tears? Was this actual, not faked sadness? Why was Steve sad? Oh god, had Tony broken Captain America? He started panicking.

“Steve? I didn’t mean to upset you. Oh god, don’t - please don’t cry, don’t - ” Awkwardly, he reached out to pat Steve on the shoulder.

The moment Tony made contact, Steve leaned forward and pulled the surprised genius into a hug.

“Oh!” Tony startled. “We’re - okay, we’re hugging now. That’s - okay.” Hesitantly he wrapped his arms around Steve, who responded by tightening his grip.

“Geez, Tony,” Steve began, voice muffled against Tony’s shoulder. “It’s not greedy to want people to like you for who you are. It’s not greedy to want more than two friends.”

He pulled back to look Tony in the eye, but kept hold of Tony’s shoulders. “It’s not unbelievable to think that I like you. Because I do, Tony. I do like you. Why did you think I spend my free time hanging out with you in your workshop?”

Shrugging as best he could without dislodging Steve’s hands, Tony said, “I just figured you were spending time with everyone. Getting to know the team. Yay, unit cohesion.”

“Wait. Is that - is that why you told me what you did? About your mom and Oscar the Grouch? You thought I was fishing for information to get to know you better?” Steve’s expression morphed from sadness to dismay.

“Maaaaaybe.” Tony sighed. “Look, Steve, it’s not like we’ve known each other all that long. I’m not used to being part of a team. Figuring out when hanging out is a team-building thing versus someone trying to form an actual friendship isn’t exactly my forte. I got it wrong. That’s on me, not you. There’s no reason for you to feel bad here, at all. I just really suck at normal people interactions.”

Steve looked sad again, shaking his head slowly. “God, Tony, I didn’t mean to pry or to - to make you think you had to tell me personal information just to be part of the team. I should have been clearer, that I wanted to get to know you, because of you.”

“Hunh. Well. Okay. I will… take that into consideration.”

“Look, if you don’t want to be friends, if you only want to be teammates, that’s fine. I won’t push you for more.”

“No, I - who wouldn’t want to be Captain America’s friend?”

“I’m not asking as Captain America. Just as Steve Rogers.” For a moment, Steve looked painfully young and uncertain. “Still want to be friends?”

Tony stared at Steve, feeling like there was an undercurrent of _something_ going on in this moment, a gravity or weight that he couldn’t quite comprehend but knew was important. Hesitantly, he nodded. “Steve, I should probably warn you… I am a terrible friend. I vacillate wildly between ignoring people and being overly clingy. I will almost definitely try to buy your affections with expensive gifts when you get annoyed with me. If that’s - if you - just. Fair warning, before you put too much effort into befriending me.”

Steve’s answering grin lit up his entire face, and Tony’s heart gave a funny flip. Ugh, he’d have to check to make sure the arc reactor was functioning correctly.

“Tony. What was it the other Mr. Rogers told you? It’s not your fancy suits and toys and technology?” Steve shook his head. “That’s all still true. And even if you have a hard time trusting the other Mr. Rogers, you can believe this Mr. Rogers: it’s you I like, Tony, just the way you are.”

Steve smiled again and sat back, giving Tony a clear exit if he chose to take it.

But Tony hesitated, enjoying seeing Steve’s happy, relaxed attitude, and decided that nothing else he had on his schedule was pressing enough that it needed to be done today.

Settling in comfortably next to Steve, Tony said, “JARVIS, start the next episode.”

As the title sequence began playing on the screen, Tony reached over and squeezed Steve’s hand gently and said softly, “You know what, Steve? It’s you I like too.”

**Author's Note:**

> With many, many apologies and thanks to Mr. Rogers. Anything that Mr. Rogers says that rhymes comes from his songs, "I'm Still Myself Inside" and the titular song, "It's You I Like," although slightly tweaked to work in context. The episodes Steve and Tony watch are actual episodes, numbers 1476 and 1478.


End file.
